Only in Dreams
by ScribeOfRemedy
Summary: So, this is what happens when you play Bad Things Happen Bingo in a Final Fantasy XV fan group with a Voltron:Legendary Defender subgroup. Today's suffering goes to our lucky victim, I mean participant, Shiro, and he'll be enduring D4: dramatic touch aversion. This fic is also a bit of a crossover as it features Carbuncle from Final Fantasy XV but there are no game spoilers.


His whole body tenses like a taut string ready to snap. There's an actual struggle not to light up the Galra prosthetic and react, but he's getting better. He doesn't even burn the synthetic coating on the lounge room couch this time. His breath hitches and his skin crawls beneath the unexpected contact against his leg. He doesn't pull away. He knows it shouldn't feel this way. It's soft, he reminds himself, the fur of this little alien mammal. He can almost trick himself into believing it's a dog or a cat from home vying for his attention.

Shiro's not sure of the name of the planet where they'd accidentally picked up the strange stray, but the lush, green forests had strongly reminded him of Earth. The bizarre land formations, however, had not. If he just focuses hard enough, maybe he can meditate on the planet's enormous rock archways or the haunting crystalline growth springing up from what Shiro guesses to have been the impact site for a sizeable meteorite. Anything to keep his attention from the sick little horrors creeping along his skin and burrowing into his head, but he hasn't had real sleep in, well, it's probably been a while. Before he can get too caught up in his own spiraling thoughts, the space critter pushes into his side, diverting his attention. Shiro can't help the sudden jerk his body makes. It's always harder to ignore the tactile sensitivity when he's tired. It's rather unfortunate that he's tired a lot.

Hoping to make amends for dislodging the small animal during his lapse and distract himself from the inner sensation of wrongness, Shiro offers the furry limpet some attention. "Sorry about that, little guy. Guess you were just trying to get comfy, huh?"

The creature chirps, looking up with large, intelligent eyes. If Shiro didn't know any better, he'd say there is a look of profound understanding on that small, vulpine face, but that's silly. The furball's probably just hungry.

The little guy leans in hesitantly, brushing up against Shiro and arching his spine like a cat, somehow knowing to avoid the painful bruising the Black Paladin's been sporting down his left side since the team's last session with the gladiator. Shiro gets through it by gritting his teeth and focusing on how startlingly familiar the creature is to an Earth fennec fox. Covered in unbelievably soft, white fur with the slightest tinge of blue, he has overlarge, pointed ears and a long, bushy tail. The only really alien feature is the ruby red horn poking out of the fox's forehead. In short, he's irresistibly adorable.

The team all has different reactions to the space fox. Coran brings in some kind of handheld scanner Shiro recognizes from the medbay and meticulously examines the little guy, humming every so often at the readings. "Well, I can't seem to identify the exact species, but I'm at least 64 percent certain it's not a venomous zappleflinger or a fire-breathing kremnack."

Oblivious of Coran's assessment, Allura stares intensely at the creature for so long Shiro begins to wonder if it has telepathic abilities similar to the mice. The space fox certainly seems smart enough. But the princess must approve of whatever she sees because in the next tick she's scooping up the little guy in a surprisingly gentle bear hug, chattering animatedly in not quite baby talk as she spins him around the lounge area and informs him of his undeniable cuteness. She pauses in the middle of her gushing, suddenly remembering her audience, and the pink markings on her cheeks start to glow faintly in what Shiro has determined to be the equivalent of an Altean blush. "Oh, would anyone else like a turn?"

Lance and Pidge nearly end up in a dog pile in the race to be next in line to hold the space fox, while Shiro is pretty sure Keith is watching the display with more than a touch of envy. Pidge makes up for the handicap of being endowed with shorter legs by viscously elbowing Lance near his floating ribs. The blue paladin cries out in pain and outrage but loses the lead.

Victorious, Pidge holds the space fox up close to her face, running her eyes over the small creature like he's a new piece of tech she's never had the privilege of getting her genius little hands on before. "He's so soft! Hm, large eyes and ears, probably strong eyesight and hearing, then. The horn looks like it's formed from some type of gemstone. It looks too small to be for hunting, but his canines are definitely sharp. I wonder what type of diet this guy has."

Hunk, not too surprisingly, is the last to warm up to the idea of their newest addition. "Hey, whoa, back up a minute. Are we sure we really want to keep this thing? I mean, yeah, it's cute and all, but what if it doesn't have all its alien shots? It could have space rabies or space flees! Ugh, just the thought of tiny, gross parasites crawling all over our bodies, laying eggs in our hair and biting us. Oh man, what if it bites?! It could have unknown harmful bacteria in its saliva and those teeth look really—"

Pidge cuts off the mounting tirade before it can gain any real momentum, holding the space fox in a conspicuously more protective hold. "Hunk, this thing is a boy, he's the most Earth-like pet we've seen, he's staying, and I think we should call him Tesla!"

"Oh no, no, no, no, nope, no! The unicorn fox is way too cool to name after something sciency!" Lance slashes his arms in the air, making a big X.

"What!? No way! Besides, you'd just name him something dumb anyway!" Pidge shouts back, and Shiro's pretty sure he's not imagining the space fox flattening his ears against the yelling.

"Would not!" Lance chokes, waving his hands about in a moment of flustered offense, before crossing them over his puffed-out chest. "We should name him something classic, like Rex or Lucky."

Pidge barely waits for Lance to finish, probably not willing to hear any of his suggestions regardless of their merit. "What, that's lame!"

"I always liked the classics." Hunk's murmurs go largely ignored by the rest of the paladins.

The Alteans, however… "Ah, it's true, nothing beats the classics. Why, you can hardly beat a name like Yuleblikzer. It's a traditional Altean name fit for any beastly companion." Coran seems proud of his contribution and completely oblivious to the pained expressions everyone else share.

The space fox wiggles free during the commotion and decides to cross the room to curl comfortably around the legs of the person making the least amount of noise, which unfortunately happens to be Shiro. No one notices the Black Paladin stiffen, back ramrod straight, as Allura chooses that moment to offer up a suggestion. "Actually, I was thinking Xatuchullue might be a more appropriate name." She grins widely, showing too many teeth to be considered nonthreatening, with her hands held together in front of her chest like she typically does when trying to charm her way into something.

Pidge grimaces at the mouthful of a moniker, turning to the Red Paladin in a last-ditch effort to draw someone to her cause. "Keith, what do you think?"

Keith, already annoyed, scowls now that he's been included in the naming battle. "I don't know, something simple maybe? Foxy, I guess?"

Lance groans loudly. "Wow, real original, Keith."

Keith bristles at the comment. "Hey!"

"Like it's any worse than Lucky," Pidge grumbles.

"What!? No fair, you can't side with Keith!" Lance protests, once again, loudly.

Usually, Shiro has more patience for the acts of childishness that occasionally spring up from the younger paladins—after all, it's not often the team gets to goof-off about meaningless things like pet names. But the volume for this discussion is already way beyond acceptable levels and he can feel his calm, authoritative facade on the verge of shattering like so many fragments of fragile glass subjected to extreme pressure, all because the fox is still touching him. "Alright, knock it off!"

The rest of the paladins cut off their near screaming match, but only Keith seems relieved about the interruption. Shiro hopes they'll buy his tone and posture are solely from irritation. "Look, we just got back from a tough mission. Why don't we all sleep on it and we can decide on a name for the space fox in the morning?" And just like that Keith's relieved look vanishes and everyone else looks like they're determined to come up with the best naming option by the end of the quintant, as if it's some kind of competition. Shiro wonders if anyone's going to get any sleep.

That night Shiro dreams. But this dream is different. He doesn't relive horrors from his imprisonment or imagine nightmare scenarios of his team hurting and dying while he's helpless to save them. Instead he's in the desert, just looking up at the sky. It feels safe here sitting on the cool sands with a pleasant breeze tousling his hair and celestial bodies shining brilliantly above. Shiro could stare all night.

Then the space fox is there. It leans into his thigh and though Shiro braces, the touch doesn't set him off like it normally would. There's no overwhelming anxiety or uncomfortable sensations akin to pins and needles pricking his flesh, his skin just feels soft fur. It's actually kinda nice, the warm presence at his lap. Together they look up and watch the stars.

Shiro doesn't remember anything after that, but he arrives at breakfast the next morning with the name Carbuncle. It suits the little guy and shockingly the team agrees pretty readily to the idea. The space fox even responds to the name like it's been called that his whole life, chirping and approaching anyone who calls the name.

After the novelty of a new pet dies down, things seem to settle somewhat. The team gets back to training and planning their next mission. Everything appears to be back on track. There's just one problem: the darned thing won't leave Shiro alone.

Seemingly taking a special liking to the Black Paladin, Carbuncle is at his heels almost constantly, trying to cuddle up to him anytime he stops moving for more than a few ticks, like right now. Shiro's getting nervous he'll slip in front of the others. So far the team treats him with surprisingly normalcy considering they all have at least some idea of what happened to him that year he went missing. There is no way they know the extent of it, though, and Shiro wants to keep it that way. He knows it will change the way the others look at him if they know how easily he freaks out by something so common as a friendly pat on the back, and these kids need someone they can rely on, someone strong. Maybe that someone isn't Shiro, but for them he's willing to pretend. He's just doesn't know how long his act can hold out with Carbuncle testing his control every time he turns around. There's already been close calls.

During their last training bout Shiro had taken a hit for Hunk. The Yellow Paladin's canon had been knocked aside and the high-level gladiator was closing in, its two taser staffs crackling. Shiro was able to intercept the attack and snap one of the staffs in half with his prosthetic. He wasn't quite fast enough to keep the remaining staff from making contact with the vulnerable area beneath the chest plate on his left. He'd went down hard for a couple of moments, but Hunk had been able to get to his bayard and blast the gladiator back. With only one staff, the simulated warrior wasn't able to fend off the double assault of Hunk and Lance's combined fire. After the level was completed Hunk had rushed over to a still dazed Shiro and tried to help him to his feet. Not expecting the hands trying to pull him up, Shiro had flinched violently, backing away like a wounded animal. The Yellow Paladin had looked heartbroken. Shiro had been mortified.

Shiro tries to take a steadying breath, just thinking about the incident makes him nauseous. It's okay, they thought you just had another flashback. Nothing's fur brushes against his flesh arm this time. He starts hyperventilating again. No one is hurting me. It's just the team. They're trying to help me. They need me. So pull it together! For a moment he can't stop imagining Haggar's cold breath trailing goosebumps down the back of his neck.

A strangled cry ends up escaping and Shiro is up and off the couch before he can stop himself, fleeing to his room where he can lock the door to cuddly space foxes and hopefully no one will find him if they investigate the odd, panicked noise that just came from the lounge.

Finally at his destination, Shiro collapses over his bed, feeling miserable. He can't understand why this is so hard. He never used to be this way. When he was a small child and before his mother got sick, he used to have a dog. Rin was a large hokkaido with a beautiful black coat and soft pointed ears, perfect for rubbing between your fingers. She was a sweet thing, always letting him crawl all over her and pull at her fur. Shiro has vivid memories of lounging in the family room, neatly squished between Rin and his mom and loving every moment of it. Oh how he misses that.

Rin had been an old dog. She died before Shiro left the country to live with his grandparents in America, where people hug and touch each other casually but at the same time demand a generous amount of personal space. Shiro remembers spending hours lying on a sandy beach near his new home as a young teen frustrated with learning English and confusing new customs. If only America had universal translators.

It's not lost on Shiro that he's basically running away from the problem all over again, but he finds that trying to convince himself to go back is getting him nowhere fast. Everything just feels so close to the surface right now. If he doesn't do something to get this under control he's going to drown.

When he hears a scratching outside his room Shiro knows the source before he even cracks open the sliding doors to find Carbuncle looking up at him from the floor as if asking for permission to enter his space for once. A part of Shiro wants to be mad at the little guy. If it wasn't for the space fox always crowding him, he wouldn't be quite so worried about losing it in front of the team, but it's not Carbuncle's fault he's just screwed up in the head and the space fox is just about the only thing forcing him to face the problem. He'll even admit that he's not jumping at shadows as much as he used to. Shiro's not really sure if that's thanks to the exposure type therapy he's experiencing with Carbuncle lately but he likes to think he's getting better, so despite being exhausted, he invites the little guy in and puts on a brave face. "I guess I kinda freaked out back there, huh?"

Not surprisingly, Carbuncle doesn't answer. That's okay with Shiro, he doesn't really need anyone to agree that he's falling apart. "I suppose I wouldn't want to stay in the lounge alone after that either."

He's sorta taken to chatting at the space fox. It's infinitely easier than talking about his problems with the others, not that he doesn't trust his team to not go blabbing his issues to the universe, but he's had so few choices recently, it's nice to just get everything off his chest without any consequences. It helps him relax a little, and secretly he thinks maybe Carbuncle won't think he's being rude every time he pulls away from the little guy.

Carbuncle follows Shiro back into the room and jumps up on the bed beside him, but surprisingly keeps a little distance between them this time. This is new. Shiro looks down at the space fox, expecting him to make a move to cuddle at any moment. Instead the little guy just curls up in one corner of the bunk like he plans to take a nap. Shiro yawns enviously.

He should really get over his little pity party and go do something productive. Training is over for the day and dinner isn't for several hours but there's always work to be done, reports to look over, strategies to plan. He really needs to find better ways to improve some of the paladins' hand to hand. Against his wishes his eye lids start to droop. Shiro blinks rapidly, trying dispel some of his drowsiness. It's not working. Maybe it is time I try to catch a little shuteye. Thirty doboshes can't hurt too much.

Shiro wakes up some time later snuggled under a blanket he doesn't remember getting under and Carbuncle curled up against him. Strangely, there's no sensation of wrongness this time. Just like in his dream all he feels is a soft warmth. Maybe it's another trick of his tortured mind. Maybe it's just temporary, another comfort to be snatched away without a moment's notice. But for now, Shiro blinks some moisture out of his eyes and savors the feeling.

* * *

I have to thank the absolutely amazing ScribeOfRed for the fantastic editing job. I also want to shout out to artemisscribe and ScribeOfRebirth for giving me some beautiful Carbuncle naming suggestions. Thanks for all your help guys!


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